


The Domesticity of Tom Riddle & Harry Potter

by FujiRouge



Series: Of Greens and Gold [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Auror Harry Potter, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Married Couple, Minister Tom Riddle, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:14:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28170744
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FujiRouge/pseuds/FujiRouge
Summary: "Killing your spouse is illegal.""I'll kiss you to death."
Relationships: Harry Potter/Tom Riddle
Series: Of Greens and Gold [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1798438
Comments: 6
Kudos: 286





	The Domesticity of Tom Riddle & Harry Potter

_Suffocate_

  
The bleary light winked at him. 

Tom blinked a few times, before he had the sense to sit upright, his head rattled and soreness consumed every waking part of his limbs. Groaning, he considered lying down again until someone let out a sharp inhale from the right side of his bed.

It was Harry. 

"You—" the red-rimmed around Harry's eyes and overall ruffled appearance indicated a lack of sleep and long periods of crying. "You fuckin' asshole!" He spat, sputtering for a moment as light began to spill from the edges of his eyes, biting his lip to contain them. 

"That's not a very warm welcoming," Tom said, amused by Harry's display of relief. "How long did I fell asleep?"

"Three days," he wiped the tears before they could drip onto his cheeks. "Also known as the most horrifying three days of my life."

Tom stayed quiet, giving Harry some time to calm down then gingerly placed a hand onto his, thumb creating circles around the cold panic-stricken skin. "My memories are a little blurry at the moment, can you tell me what happened?"

"An attacker tried to cast the Killing Curse but you managed to dodge it, next he casted a hex on your head and succeeded. You passed out and an Auror managed to apprehend him before he got away," Harry glowered. "Your brain would have been mangles if the healers didn't come in time. Why didn't you dodge it faster, you ass?"

"When will you stop the crude insults? It's not like I wanted to get hit," despite the sarcastic words, his gaze was soft. Harry was a little irritable right now, but that's how he usually was whenever worry drowned out his rational thinking. 

Again, tears began to warm up and Tom quickly pulled Harry to the bed. Harry responded, moving closer to bury his head on Tom's shoulder. Warm breaths swept onto his exposed collarbones, then his weight began to stack against Tom. It was uncomfortable, but he let the man hold him as much as he wanted. Harry needed to touch him, for those hands to guide around his body until he was reminded that Tom was still here. He wasn't going anymore.

A few minutes of silence, just light touching and sniffles of cry. Tom said. "Now you know how I feel."

Harry's chuckles vibrated. "Yeah..." He paused. "I'm sorry. Although I know my apology wouldn't cut it."

It wasn't. Tom hated Harry sometimes, those moments of weakness whenever news had been delivered that his reckless, utterly Gryffindor, husband nearly killed himself because he liked making his body into a bulletproof vests for deadly hexes. He'd go to St. Mungos, frustration and protectiveness overpowering him to see Harry with a broken arm, or a leg, or both.

Tom often joked about keeping Harry in a cage, dug through the deepest soil of the earth, if it prevented Harry out of danger. But one of these days, he started to consider the possibility. 

"Give me back my sanity, for all those days you took it from me whenever I hear you've done something stupid again."

Harry shifted back, looking at him straight in the eyes. "It's to save a life, Tom. I'd never regret it."

Of course, he wouldn't. Harry who was bright, wonderful and gorgeous, someone so selfless that it was beyond the realms of stupidity. There was always an ungoing question of how Tom married a person that contradicted him in so many ways. 

Though the answer didn't matter. Tom was never letting him go.

Determined green eyes waited for his reply, probably waiting for Tom to talk about preservation, but they've already had this talk for countless of times. Frankly, he was getting tired of it, knowing full well that Harry was never gonna take the advice.

"Whatever, Harry."

Stunned, Harry craned his head. "You don't care?"

"There's no point in settling this argument with you, Harry. Again."

"So have you accepted it?"

"That you're an idiot?" The raven-haired let out an offended sound yet didn't deny anything. "Maybe. I should've thought more before marrying you."

Harry chuckled, bringing back his head against Tom's shoulder. He reached for his wild inky locks, softly twisting and caressing them as Harry sighed, content. "Any regrets?" Harry muttered. 

"Hmm... None so far."

"You snore when you sleep," he mused, shifting the topic. "It's really cute. Kind of like a caf."

Tom scowled, pushing him away which brought a soft laugh from the raven-haired. "Shut up. I do not," he hissed. 

"Yes you do."

"My dorm mates never complained."

"Duh. Because they were too afraid to evoke your angry, they probably thought you'd kill them if they mentioned anything."

Tom raised a brow, unimpressed. "I'd kill you," although the threat fell flat when he gripped Harry's forearms, then brought him closer to seal their lips together, wanting the man to shut up for good. 

Harry drifted slightly away, just enough distance to mutter. "Killing your spouse is illegal. Even if you are the Minister, Tom."

One of his hands glided up to his shoulders before it finally reached onto the back of Harry's head, pulling his face back again. "I'll kiss you to death."

Harry's chuckles touched his lips like a phantom. "In that case," he tangled his arms around his shoulders, leaning closer until hooded-eyes was all Tom could see. " _Suffocate_ me then."

* * *

_Bittersweet_

  
Harry pressed the thin piece of treat between his teeth, moving it in different motions.

Hermione gave it to him as a gift, something she got from a muggle stores. Pocky, a candy brand that was popular amongst most cities, though Harry had yet to understand the appeal, it tasted alright. Just simple chocolate that didn't explode your tongue with varieties of flavor, nor gave temporary effects like turning your hair blue or making you fly. It was suffice to say, Harry enjoyed muggle candies more than magical.

"What's that?"

"Chocolate," Harry replied, attention secured from the letter he was composing for Ron, regarding his job promotion. 

"It's a stick."

"So? Don't be a stickler, Tom," he imagined the other man already rolling his eyes. "If you want, you can eat some."

Harry expected Tom's reply to be a no because apparently, he was married to a man who took his coffee as black as his soul. He never tasted something so bitter in his life, nearly reduced his tongue into a rumpled mess of squeezed lemon. Probably why Tom's personality was so sore. Instead, Tom said. "Sure."

An arm pressed his desk, just beside the parchment Harry was writing. Suddenly, fingers threaded around his chin, guiding him to look up and meet a pair of blue eyes. "What are you doing?" He asked, brow raised. 

A sly smirk spread on his lips. "You said I could eat one, I'm simply taking that offer," he moved and pressed his teeth on the other end of the stick. 

Oh. 

"This isn't how I meant it, Tom," though Harry didn't let go. 

"Then perhaps you should've phrased it well." 

Harry didn't avert his eyes away. He watched as Tom's face hovered closer and closer, mouth eating the treat in such an agonizingly slow nibbles, Harry nearly wanted to speed things up and finish it himself but the tight grip on his chin refrained him from doing so. 

Finally, their mouths met and it was heated. The tongue probing inside dominated, a mixture of chocolate and coffee that created a lovely and _bittersweet_ flavor, much more ravishing than the candy he was previously eating. His hands wandered behind Tom's neck, the taller man grunted before bending down further, the fingers on his chin pressed tightly, nails digging through his skin.

Tom moved away. The loss of contact nearly made Harry whine, but then realized ink had spilled onto his unfinished letter. "Shit." He muttered. Great.

The bastard snorted, body turned to leave. "I'll leave you to it then."

Harry replied with a raised finger. 

* * *

_Lick_

  
Harry brought a dog home.

The tiny devil was a Shih Tzu, still a few months young for its hair to be long like a typical Shih Tzu would look like. Tom hated it. Barking in the middle of the night, peed on the couch and consumed most of Harry's time. 

Meanwhile, Harry, being the naturally caring person that he was, didn't care and loved it. 

He constantly brought it with him as he bathed, his echoes of laughter and barks was heard from within the living room and Tom was an inch close to barging in the bathroom and stealing the creature away, no matter how much Harry complained or pouted. 

Harry named it Barks. Because it barked. A lot. Tom would've clapped for Harry's lack of creativity if it didn't suit the demon so much. 

It barked whenever Tom laid his hands around Harry. This resulted to many make-outs being interrupted once the dog entered the room. Salazar, for such a small creature, it had a mouth of a whale. Loud continuous barks that could make a normal person go deaf, Tom had lost counts of wanting to hex the dog into oblivion or throw it somewhere in the streets but if he did, Harry would never stop looking for Barks. Because Harry was an idiot.

Draco even liked Barks. Saying how adorable and small it was. Tom made sure to overwork him that day.

Tom watched Harry kneeled on the floor, pleased hums and chuckles, usually listening to Harry's cheerful sounds would've delighted him but knowing it came because of Barks completely ruined the mood. Tom preferred if Harry was beneath him, moans of pleasure as entangled limbs writhed together. It was already two weeks since they last had sex.

Harry laughed when Barks licked his face.

Annoyed, Tom glared. Damn pest.

"Oh, stop that," Harry frowned, cuddling Barks closer on his arms. "I don't understand why you don't like dogs."

"I don't like your dog. Theres a difference," Tom could've sworn Barks was sticking his mouth on purpose in front of him, it frustrated him more that he was incredibly close to Harry. 

"Come off it, Tom. It's just an animal. He can't take me away from you."

Tom ignored Harry.

"Jeez. You're pettier than the dog," the spot on the couch beside him dipped down. Tom could feel the dog's movements on Harry's lap. "Here, take this."

A hand gripped his shoulder to turn him over in front of Harry. The raven-haired placed something in his palm. It was a bone-shaped dog treat. "Feed him gently." Harry said, softly pulling his hand towards the dog's mouth. 

Tom hesitated. 

Until the dog's muzzle sniffed his hand, black nose twitching. Not for long, Barks began to bite onto the treat, soft munches as its tail wagged side-by-side. "See, he likes you now!" 

Once finished, Tom brought back his hand to find it slobbered with saliva. Ugh. Harry noticed his expression and had the gall to laugh. 

Barks jumped into Tom's lap, before climbing itself on his chest to lick his chin, tongue moved in quick swipes and Tom was disgusted. This only seemed to increase Harry's enjoyment, chest convulsing. "You can have him back, Harry," he said, inclining his face away from the dog to avoid getting slobbered. 

"Nah, I think he likes you better now."

"His saliva is all over me," Tom twitched once he wiped off the filth from his chin with his fingers. "Dogs are disgusting."

"Are they?" Harry began to lean over, mischief constructing in his eyes before a warm muscle _licked_ his mouth. 

Tom froze. 

The wetness on his mouth turned cold. Tom sat there for a few seconds, mind in near combustions as he processed what Harry just done. It was a bold move. Rather than being disgusted, it somehow intrigued him more. 

Harry raised a brow, a smirk in place while he waited for Tom's reaction. 

Tom carefully masked his expression into bemusement. "You're disgusting." 

He wrapped a hand around Harry's chin, his thumb caressing his bottom lip before putting the digit inside the mouth, hot saliva coating his finger.

"Do it again."

* * *

_Wrong_

"That was cherry. It had to be Cherry."

Harry giggled, showcasing the chapstick he used. "No, that was Strawberry."

For the past twenty minutes, they were playing the Chapstick Challenge. A game, Hermione showed him, that was meant for couples. The rules was easy; a person would put chapstick on their lips and kiss their partner, afterwards, the person must guess what kind of flavor their partner used. 

Amused by the prospects, Harry asked her to buy him a pack to which was given to him by a playful Hermione, winking at him as goodluck. He was excited to play, even forcing an annoyed Tom to join along and pull him away from his work.

His husband had been working too hard, Harry wanted him to relax for a moment. 

Tom glared. "No, you're lying."

"Nope, I'm not," Harry giggled. "I guess that's three points for me."

Grumbling, the taller man crossed his arms. Harry suppressed another cackle. Tom never changed. Despite years of being together, he was still a sore loser. "Your turn," he said, shutting his eyes as he turned around. 

A minute passed, Harry returned his gaze back to Tom. He pecked his lips, then another and another. 

What?

Harry focused on his tongue, the flavor didn't seem familiar. He frowned, before pressing his mouth again, there was a noise of amusement from Tom when Harry poked his tongue out to properly taste his lips.

He frowned, brows knitted in concentration. 

Tom's grin cracked in full force, taking delight from Harry's clear confusion. "Well?" he mused. "Your answer, darling?"

"Uh... Cool Mint?"

"Are you sure?" He cocked a brow. 

"Uh, no— actually, Black Cherry! Final answer."

Letting a drawn-out silence because Tom was a drama queen, he finally answered. " _Wrong_."

Harry's shoulders sagged, his disappointment going in waves. "Aw, then it's Cool Mint?"

"No," he shook his head. "It's both."

"What?" Harry scowled. "That's not fair!"

"It isn't?" Tom curved his head to the side, appearing coy as ever. "There aren't rules specifying that you can't use two or more chapsticks. You should've been more specific."

"Slimy snakes," Harry should've expected Tom to find some sort of loophole in the rules. 

An arm encased around his waist, Harry let Tom pull him towards his lap, soft kisses arranged on the side of his neck. Harry sighed, then craned his neck to give Tom more room, as well as slightly hating himself for giving in so easily. 

"Stupid lion," he purred before biting his skin.

* * *

_Silence_

The body in his arms began to quiver, rattling in sharp spasms that Tom woke up. 

Harry was having a nightmare. His eyes screwed tight, mouth drawing in sharp pants as his chest heaved up and down, heart loud that Tom could feel it pumping though a touch of his arm. He muttered, in every inhale and exhale. "Sirius... Mom— don't..."

"Harry, darling, wake up!" He shook him, watching sweat bead down om his forehead. 

"Please..." Tears streamed from his closed eyelids. "Don't—"

"Wake up!"

Harry did.

Tom helped him to sit upright, placing a touch on his back, forming circular motions and gentle pats. For a while, he watched Harry's breathing slow down then asked, voice soft. "Are you alright, darling?" 

Upon releasing the question, Harry cried. "No. I'm not," he whispered, gaze growing distant. "I saw them. My parents, my godfather. I could've saved them—"

"Harry," he stopped him, making sure their eyes were connected— tearful greens meeting sharp blues. "They died in a car crash. There was nothing you can do." 

Unfortunately, Harry was too far gone out in his mind to focus on Tom's words. Embracing him, Harry shivered and felt too small within his arms. In each breath, each tear, Tom could feel them as if they were his own. 

"I'm useless, I couldn't—"

"Harry, shut up."

Harry brushed out of Tom's touch. "But I—"

"Shut up," he repeated, harsher, then roughly kissed him.

Harry kissed him back, letting the _silence_ in.

**Author's Note:**

> I needed something indulgent so I wrote this. I haven't edited this and I'm too tired to check for any mistakes so beware.  
> Im proud of it, honestly.


End file.
